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User blog:MichaelDiaz101/Michael's Final Year: Chapter 15
Bradi and Michael never fought, never. Wasn't bred into them. They were never uprooted from their friendship in such a way. It was a shock to both of them that they had been fighting. A week down and not a word exchanged between them. You could even assume that their friendship was over as they both avoided one another. Michael's brown eyes never met with Bradi's blue eyes during this time. Any time spent around one another garnered elusive gazes. They still assembled in the cafeteria with their mutual allies, but did not speak once. It was odd that none of their other friends really caught onto this developing vexation. "... And that's how it happened!" Michael finished up with a joke, causing uproarious laughter from everyone. Save for Bradi, who was doing her best to ignore Michael, perhaps even taking mental steps to forget that he existed. Michael looked over at her, her slim figure, slumped down, clearly avoiding all forms of eye contact. Michael sighed, with annoyance. Another thing that really troubled Michael was that none of his friends even appeared to notice. It angered him further. Melting into the topic of conversation Michael had begun to withdraw from it entirely. That is until prompted directly. "What do you think about that, Michael?" Charles asked, turning his head to Michael. "Sounds wonderful." Michael grumbled, sending the others to fits of laughter. Michael was indifferent. The class bell finally rang, calling it's meager students to answer the call. Michael rose from his seat and walked out of the cafeteria, navigating through the tight corridors on his way to see Galloway. Once there he opened the door and took a lone seat in the back of the classroom. Galloway proceeded to begin his conjecture. Michael was lost in thought. This was his loneliest year of High School, never did he think that he would be entrenching himself in such a way. He felt lonely, alienated, alone. He missed his friends dearly, their extended outreach on his life was nulified. Even those that were there in person seemed different, and at a distance. The bell ringing did not grasp Michael's attention, his head down, hands clasped together, elbows dug into the wooden exterior of his desk he was rung from his contemporary thought by Mr. Galloway approaching him, extending a firm hand to his shoulder. Michael glanced up, meeting the eyes of his English Teacher. "Hey.." Michael said, attempting to provide his usual excitement, but it was easily discernable. "Are you okay, sir Michael?" Mr. Galloway's face conveyed genuine worry, his tone was soft. "Yeah." Michael tried to assure him but doing mroe so to convince himself that he was fine, but the tone in his voice was not the usual enthusiastic voyeurism that it usually held, it was not attuned to his usual strength. "Something is wrong." Mr. Galloway pointed out, resting himself on the desk in front of Michael. "You seem stuck, almost confined." Mr. Galloway went on to explain, his eyes warm. "I just feel weird," Michael tried his best to assert himself, and for once it felt like he was failing to do so. "I miss my friends, the ones that graduated. Yet, it feels like the ones that I'm here with are not really here either." Michael said, flatly. "Have you attempted to reach out to them?" Mr. Galloway asked "Oh, no." Michael said, his tone vexed, as he rolled his brown eyes. "I didn't try that." His voice was critical, and demeaning as the sarcastic overtone escaped his lips. "I'm trying to help, sir Michael." Mr. Galloway, tilted his head, gazing at Michael with warmth. Michael shook his head. "Sorry, I'm just stressed." Michael confessed, rubbing his forehead. "Try reaching out to them in a different way, perhaps." Mr. Galloway suggests, smiling. "Thank you." Michael said, truly thankful for the support Galloway has given him all these years as a sturdy pupil to him. Michael got to his feet and with one swoop got his backpack and shimmied out into the hall. The discourse of students soon were all around him. He made his way to Bradi's locker and sure enough she was there. Her eyes were soft, cheeks lamented with dried tears that really did a number on her makeup. Michael felt guilty, he was the reason she was crying. He took one, prolonged breath, and walked over to her. "Hey.." Michael said, nervously scratching the back of his head, but trying to retain the confidence he was famous for. "I feel shitty about what's happened, and.." With one emotionally charged movement he grasped her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. Instead of revolting, as he expected she would, she instead furthered the movement, as her lips became loose and her arms encased him. They were like that for what felt like an eternity, one longstanding eternity that really pleased both of them. Finally after the kissing had ended they stared into one another's eyes. Her eyes were worried but ultimately the life sprang back into her, as her skin regained color. It is hard to explain but she seemed more full of life. Michael felt immediate guilt, though understood. They were still friends, nothing more, or less. But this understanding was scruptulous years in the making as they both conformed to the grisly tension that stood between them. "So, apology accepted?" He asked, half-jokingly. She chuckled. "Yeah.." She said, her legs turning to jello as she seemingly struggled to stand. She was so deeply happy that she didn't care if she appeared loopy, or as if she lacked ethical concentration. "Bye." They both said, shyly. Before each turning on their heels and walking the opposite direction from one another. Smiles were imprinted on both of their faces. Category:Blog posts